Misadventurers
by Poiso
Summary: I can never think of a good summary for this. Subtle comedy sort of epic notreallybased on real people. Chapter 7 up, 2 and 3 to be revised. Reviews appreciated.
1. Chapter 1 or prelude

Ok folks, I'm writing this while Chapter 7's in progress. Lately I've grown concerned with how many people read this prelude and then don't go on. This and the chapter after this are both short quips, which I don't feel entirely good about myself, and I am slowly revising them. You're not supposed to feel introduced to any character by the time you've gotten to episode 3, save perhaps one. I recommend you read at least past chapter 3 (should take maybe 15 minutes to read all that, chapters start getting longer and better at chapter 4) before you make a judgement and stop reading. This thing really, really picks up there, and continiues to do so.

This is not the story of our stupid antics in the game. That wouldn't be good reading. This is far beyond FFXI's silly limited playstructure.

Hope you enjoy it.

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Prelude

It was a highly improbable event, although when you think about it, it was bound to happen sometime. It went something like this. Wriith, an Elvaan monk, was going to Windurst Woods to meet his Mithra girlfriend Vernice, who had received an unsigned letter from someone who she figured was Wriith saying to meet there. However it was in fact Rampart who sent this letter, who had a rather large secret attraction to Vernice. Vernice sent a letter back, simply saying that she would meet him at the arranged location, and that he should prevent his Taru black mage friend, Poiso, from following him there. Of course that was not about to happen, or not happen as may be the case. Following Poiso around for no apparent reason without knowing where he was actually going was Hellhound, along with his new friend Krie, who happened to be Vernice's ex-boyfriend and object of extreme contempt for Poiso and Wriith, as well as Vernice, of course. Krie also happened not to know Hellhound was following Poiso, lending more chaos to this situation. Hellhound was not good enough to tell Krie much of anything. And following these two for the sole purpose of recruiting them into her guild was Angelinx, who was Rampart's ex-girlfriend. Read that again, if you must, it makes sense eventually.

Indeed, a staggering coincidence that all these directly related people would accidentally be headed to the same spot. But this is the way things go. Especially for this bunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Ok folks. Here are a few notes. To those who just found this, most of the characters in here are based on and named after people I know in FFXI, and some of them help me write it, actually. If someone cares enough you can find all of us on the Bahamut server. We're all using the same names here, so you don't have to ask. I'll mention if any characters are not real at the end of each chapter. Now, a note to the people I write about... if I offend you, don't worry about it. This wouldn't be funny if we weren't all arsefaces. Just lighten up. If you don't want to be included, tell me and I'll kill off your character or something. And I acknowledge that Rampart does not really have a crush on Vernice. It's just for laughs. Now, if you can stand it, enjoy the first real chapter.

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Chapter one

And then they met. Upon arrival at the fountain, everyone said, in unison, "Wait a minute." And then what little order there was became lost. Wriith signed dejectedly, Poiso sent nasty looks at everyone; Krie hugged himself, and everyone else had many other amusing reactions! All was lost on Angelinx, and the only thought the rusty gears of her mind could churn forth suddenly escaped from her mouth, "Who wants to join my new guild? It's called Hassloe's Brace!" And thusly she pulled a sickly orange shell from her pocket, which dispensed six similarly colored pearls, with an irritating rattling noise. "Anyone?" Poiso, who had been banned from her guilds on many an occasion, was first to volunteer, and quickly snatched four of the linkpearls from her hand. Wriith was hesitant. "What the hell kind of name is Hassloe's brace?"

Angelinx, who was ignorant of the anagram she had accidentally unleashed, smiled, and with a shrill squeal said, "It's a cool name!" Poiso laughed hysterically. "Asshole!" Angelinx didn't get it, and handed a pearl to everyone uninitiated. Poiso kissed his awesome green shell, which almost no one had a pearl to, and those who knew about Apostlecorp gazed at it with awe and regret. He slowly looked around and slipped it back into his pocket. There was a moment of silence as everyone stared at his pocket. Angelinx pulled Krie and Hellhound aside in order to preach uselessness at them about her "wonderful" guild. Vernice turned to Rampart. "Hey Ram! What are you doing here?" She asked, followed by a fairly audible blink. Rampart then made a weak smile and nervously said "Uhhh, nothing." He blushed and sprinted away. Vernice shrugged. Wriith looked at Poiso, smiled, and said nothing for a moment. He then looked away and screamed "TELEPORT-HOLLA PLEASE, WILL PAY!"

The next day, Poiso was fishing at port. He was wearing his robe and windshear hat, which while they provided little armor, Poiso thought they looked good on him. This was not, in fact, conjecture. It was a sunny day, but regardless, as far as Poiso's days go, this was a fairly decent one. He had caught quite a few fish and his rod hadn't even broken, so he was probably going to make a fairly good amount of cash at the end of the day. You, the reader, are probably now thinking, "This will never go according to plan." If you were, you were right! Poiso heard a muffled voice from his Hassloe's Brace linkpearl, saying "Poiso! Hey, Poiso! Are you there? Hey, shut up Krie! Poiso!"

Grimacing, Poiso pulled the disgusting object from his pocket. Inside it, Wriith's face was apparent. Shouting above the voices Poiso did not recognize, Wriith said, "Oh, there you are! Say, how about you come over here to Sandy?" A faint rumbling noise could be heard about Poiso's person. "Why?" He asked in a menacing voice. The image of Wriith replied, "I dunno! Why not?" Wriith looked behind him, and a voice urging Wriith to "Put away that thing and help me with this" could be heard in the background. Wriith was in a swamp outside of Sand'oria somewhere, and a rather large fish, which was, without explanation, able to walk on land without so much as feet, was attacking his party. Before Poiso could force a laugh and agree, Wriith had hastily said he would meet him at the Southern Sand'oria auction house at sunset and had put away his pearl.

The rumbling emitting from Poiso grew louder. Before he realized what he was doing, he kicked his bucket of fish into the ocean in rage. A rather rotund Galka began to laugh at him. Poiso looked at him, snapped his fingers, and suddenly the part of the port beneath the Galka's feet was missing. As you have probably already imagined, the Galka fell into the ocean and screamed something about his not being able to swim. Poiso walked away at a calm pace.

He arrived at Windurst Walls. "No problem," he thought, "I'll just pay for a teleport and be there in no time." However before he could so much as open his mouth and start shouting, another Tarutaru approached him from behind. "Hey!" He said. "I hear you are going to Sand'oria." Poiso was obviously puzzled.

"How...?"

"Could you... take me with you?"

"Actually I was planning on..."

"Say, thanks!"

Something in Poiso's head made a pop noise. He tilted his head. "Well...ok then... let's go..." The new adventurer introduced himself. "My name is Darkslayer!" Poiso grimaced. "I'm sure it is..."

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Darkslayer is not a real person. If he is similar to your character, that's pretty funny.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay. I'm totally back at it now. Also, I personally do not play the game anymore. I have always thought it was crap. That's kind of the inspiration for my character. But I'll keep writing this, so it barley affects you, the reader, at all.

This may be a good time to note that somewhere in the not so vast regions of Vana'diel is a book of prophecies. However unlike one would expect from such a book, this one, called Things to Watch Out for, is not written in a glorious manner. In fact it is written quite casually. But despite this, it always seems to be correct. It predicts everything from when the Star Sibyl will wake up on most major holidays to major things such as what day and time this same person will die. It also has brief passages on most of the characters we have been introduced to thus far, most of which we will get to later on. Curiously, its passage on Poiso is the only one inhabiting page 666, and is quite simply, "Seriously man, watch out for this guy." However not many people beyond the owner of the library in Bastok in which the dusty, not recently visited shelf on which lies this book has heard of it. Which is too bad, really, because Poiso should indeed be watched out for.

Poiso, with the young Darkslayer trudging along behind him, entered Mhuara, the port town on the way to San'doria. Poiso, as he did most things in this world, hated it. Darkslayer couldn't be more amazed.

"What's this town called? Seems pretty small, is this all there is? Where are all the people? Big heroes like us shouldn't have to walk to so much... Hey! A boat! Are we going on the BOAT?"

Poiso, without a word, kept walking, paying both fares for the boat. Darkslayer was trying to keep up, but was having a great time looking at everything, making "Aaahhh" noises. When they were both onboard, Darkslayer said, "This is a dangerous journey!" Poiso wanted to argue that they hadn't been attacked by anything, but was busy trying to get Wriith on the linkshell.

"WRIITH YOU ARE ONE HELL OF A...uh..." He looked at Darkslayer, who was watching him with painfully innocent eyes. "Wriith. Talk to me. Now."

"Yeah Pois?" Wriith cheerfully acknowledged communication.

"The boat's just leaving..." He remembered the sundown deadline, "Should be there a little early."

Wriith looked behind him. "Hey, that's great. Bye." Before Poiso could mention he was bringing company, Wriith stuck his pearl in his pocket, which shortly afterwards made the noise of clothing hitting the floor. Poiso decided he shouldn't call back.

"Ok, the boat should be safe as long as you don't go up to the deck." He turned to face Darkslayer so he could make sure he understood, but Darkslayer was not where he should be. His voice sounded from the deck.

"What?"

In about a second Poiso was next to his half-dead body, in front of a very happy looking flying shark.

"Ok, Darkslayer, just hang on a minute. Don't spawn back at the life stone... there's someone down there who can heal you." Poiso turned to call the white mage he saw earlier, but instead of anything helpful he saw Darkslayer standing on the dock, watching the boat sail away.

"What?"

Poiso stared at Darkslayer for a moment, and then starting rumbling and vibrating violently. Those watching him thought he was about to explode. And after screaming quite loudly, he did. He was propelled into the air, spewing obscenities, landed next to the very surprised Darkslayer, grabbed him by the hair, and exploded again, this time going in the direction of the boat. Darkslayer was quite worried that they were very high in the air and that his feet were on fire, but Poiso was simply worried about what else was going to go wrong.

They landed directly in front of what Poiso, while in the air, had referred to as a "GOD-DAMNED MINDLESS SHARK ON PILLS," which was thrown back in the third explosion, which occurred as the pair landed. Poiso approached it, failed to snap his fingers a few times, shouted a rude word, and then managed to perform a fairly loud snap. The shark was removed from existence, returned to the nothingness from which it was born when the boat cast off. A crowd that had assembled applauded wildly, but stopped when Poiso gave them perhaps the iciest look imaginable.

The fat Galka from earlier began to laugh again. Poiso teleported him into a leech tank which happened to be in the cargo hold of the boat at the time. His screams were heard for the next five minutes, until he passed out.

Later, the sun was starting to set. They were a little behind schedule because of the boat incident. But they were almost through the LaThiene Plateau, so it shouldn't have mattered much. Shouldn't.

Poiso was contemplating why he continued to live, when Darkslayer pointed ahead and said "Wow, big sheep." Poiso looked up. There was a Battering Ram only a few yards ahead. It saw the pair and snorted. Darkslayer fell to the ground, dead once again.

Time froze around Poiso. He looked from the body of Darkslayer, with a stupefied look on his face, to the massive sheep, which had killed him with only a snort. Time unfroze and a great, black shockwave came from Poiso, covering the Battering Ram as well as all nearby in a sheet of black energy. This energy then caught fire, and it was quite a horrible disaster that a lot of people were really concerned about, but Poiso was already halfway to town by then.


	4. Chapter 4

INCREDIBLY DELAYED OK

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It was the height of rudeness. The definition. It didn't need a picture in the dictionary though, because all it would show is the entrance to San d'Oria without any Wriith or Vernice. It could certainly have been the example, though. "It was very rude of Wriith and Vernice not to show up…"

Poiso's good mood, which he had gotten by causing a lot of pain and suffering a minute ago, was ruined. There was a rumbling noise…

Which could not be heard by those responsible for it, who were in their Mog house. They were lying on the bed, but this story is still rated PG-13 and I really don't want to imagine them naked so they were fully clothed, and were acting completely appropriately. But they were under the covers, and the atmosphere was totally romantic, I am sure.

"So," Said Wriith in his most romantic voice, which wasn't very good but Vernice liked it anyway, "What do you want to do now?"

"Hmm…" She thought a moment, and then looked in his eyes, excitedly beaming, "Let's go somewhere!"

He played with her hair. "Ah, but where? The choices are endless." He was wrong, but it was better than saying "The choices, there are around ten of them!"

"Hmm…" She said again. "We haven't been to Jueno in a while."

His smile faded a little, but not much because he was playing with her hair and he really enjoyed that. "I thought that was because we didn't like it much there. Too many people."

"Ah," She grinned, "But we may change our minds if we go again."

Wriith smiled at the great wisdom of this statement. He decided it was one of the wisest things he had ever heard, and satisfied himself by applying this wisdom to a girl he happened to be in bed with. They enjoyed the silence for a moment, but that didn't last long because the door exploded.

The smoke and dust hadn't cleared, but Wriith and Vernice could hear the pitter-pattering of little feet and an equally little voice ranting. They were annoyed. This had come to be behavior expected of the midget.

"That was the THIRD time I exploded during this trip! Guess how many times I exploded before it? That's right, two. Both were YOUR fault. And the stupid kid too, but I wouldn't have had to deal with him if it weren't for you in the first place."

The smoke cleared. Wriith saw that Poiso was standing on the bed, right next to him.

"And why not at least welcome me at the gate? YOU arranged the time for me to show up, why couldn't you stick with it yourself? Oh, well, I guess you couldn't really see the sun in BED with your GIRLFRIEND in your HOUSE. If I didn't like you with some small, singular fiber of my being I would hurt you right now…"

"I forgot," said Wriith simply. He got up, and if he weren't already wearing a shirt he would have put one on now. "Anyway, bye. We're going."

Poiso couldn't be more outraged than he already was, but he pretended he managed it anyway. "WHAT? Then why did you tell me to come HERE?"

"I'unno. I guess I figured you should spend more time here. Seeya." Vernice got up too, and together they waltzed out the door, literally, which was weird when people saw them so they stopped. Poiso was left there, bickering to himself and sometimes others, wreaking general destructive chaos within the kingdom.

---

Wriith forced a smile. It was not that he wished he wasn't on this trip, or that his girlfriend was boring him in any way, but the Bard, who came with the chocobos and the carriage, seemed a little too cheerful, and couldn't quite hit the highest note in the song he had been playing for the past hour. He had announced before that hour began that it was called the "Chocobo Theme." Wriith found that to be a strange name.

Another thing was that neither Wriith nor Vernice had heard of this desert between San d'Oria and Jueno. But it was as visually stunning as one would expect a Vana'diel desert to be. That is to say, it wasn't. It was mostly nauseatingly bumpy, except for the sudden, steep, impassible walls that seemed to form the boundaries of every area (except the more newly discovered ones.) But the bard, who also happened to somehow be the driver, seemed to be sympathetic about this. He had steered into a small canyon-like formation with boundaries of soothing, passable dunes.

Also happy that these dunes were so passable were the Tarutaru bandits on the other side. Their leader, who was at that moment fiddling with  
his non-trustworthy type of long, bushy mustache, was having a good  
day that day, and this wasn't only because someone finally ventured  
into the area marked only on the map as 'Danger, bandits," but also  
because the Vana'diel Tribune had finally written an article on him.  
He couldn't read it, but he was sure it painted him as one of the  
greatest criminal masterminds ever born. He grinned, showing the  
gaps in his rows of teeth. He had wanted to say this all day.

"Onwards!"

A band of about 5 enthusiastic ruffians followed their leader,  
scurrying along in an adorable charge. From the carriage, our  
protagonistic couple could hear a giddy sort of squeal. They looked  
to the source of this noise and were startled to see a motley crew of  
Tarutarus were chasing after their carriage on foot. One stopped  
running, began casting a spell, and suddenly all the bandits were  
standing triumphantly in the carriage, taking up the empty seats next  
to the bard. The bard did not react.

The bandit leader surveyed the scene. He wasn't expecting this to  
simply be a carriage with a romantic couple, who were at this moment  
beginning to collect their wits. He had to act fast. He pointed at  
the bandit who cast the warp spell, and then at the bard, and  
then outside the carriage, where of course the bard shortly was.  
Opening his previously shut eyes and dropping his fiddle in surprise,  
this musician came to realize he was in a bit of a jam. He turned to  
face the carriage, which was now speeding away, out of control, and he  
very probably didn't see anyone again for quite a long time.

The bandit leader maintained his cool composure despite the  
unpredictability of his current situation.

"Hi there…" He said softly, pausing to glance at his partners in  
crime, who were at this point in time all staring at our heroes. "I'm  
Jed." His voice was lower than one would expect it to be, sounding  
almost human. It was a polite voice, with a Bastokian accent, and  
would have been quite charming in an unusual sort of way were it not  
attached to someone who commonly threatened people's safety. Jed  
decided to get to the point. "Pardon me if it seems too much to ask,  
but it's my job, y'see. Have any of y'all got any valuables on you?"

Neither Wriith Nor Vernice did have anything valuable, since as a Monk  
and White Mage they didn't have particular needs of weapons, and they  
didn't figure they would need to bring any armor to this event. They  
were beginning to regret that conclusion. They both shook their  
heads. The carriage went over a rock, causing it to bump violently.  
One of the Tarus shrieked.

Jed sighed. This area wasn't his best gig, he decided. The carriage  
was about to go into a field of sharp, dangerous-looking rocks, so he  
was to be off.

He pointed at a different bandit, who skillfully climbed over to the  
front of the carriage where the Chocobos were.

"Well, I understand. Be seein' y'all, maybe." The bandit at the  
front cut the ropes attached to the chocobos, and the bandits and  
chocobos were all teleported away. The carriage continued to speed  
toward the sharp rocks, which were looking more and more dangerous  
every second. Wriith and Vernice were both too shocked to notice.  
But unfortunately for them, that didn't change the fact that they were  
crashing violently. They lost consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

We decided that Hellhound (although a great guy) just wasn't that interesting. So here's what we did.

PS: Sorry man, them's the breaks.

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Hellhound was bored one day, so he decided he would break some bread. I mean make some bread, I mean bake it. He mixed the bread… Oh wait bread doesn't have mix. He molded the dough or whatever and put it in the…wait, they didn't have ovens back then. When I say back then, what do I mean? Whatever, he put it in the fire crystal and it did whatever it does in there, and he cooked it.

"Hey, this bread is pretty good!" He said. And he was right, it was delicious. It was so good in fact, that he left to sell it. Forever.


	6. Chapter 6

I forgot to mention: Jed's not real.

This will be the precursor to a slightly more serious storyline.

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SAN D'ORIA ATTACKED BY SHORT TERRORIST!

At least, that was the headline on the front page of the Tribune. It went on to describe a glorious battle between this terrorist, who seemed to be acting in pure rage, and the knights, in their infinite valor. Of course, the knights came out on top, defeating this great evil once and for all.

Rampart, however, wasn't buying it. He was there when it happened. Really, Poiso just became magically exhausted, and was then ambushed by the extremely frightened knights. And defeated was, from Poiso's point of view especially, a relative term in this case. He was told he was not welcome in any of civilized society, and was exiled. Poiso may very well have been happy of this.

But Rampart was not. Ever since the "attack" a week ago, Wriith and Vernice had been missing. Rampart, being the nice guy he was, was concerned for their well-being. The trouble was that Poiso, the only person who could very easily find them, was not easily accessible. Rampart was going to find help.

He was at Southern San d'Oria, looking at a clock tower on the inside eastern corner near the auction house that he hadn't noticed before. It was being rebuilt; half of the building was completely destroyed. In fact, the whole area was like that. For unknown reasons, the damage seemed to be the worst near the Mog Houses, and up north, it got more minor. Krie walked through the gate and saw Rampart.

"Hey, Ram." As usual, Krie looked indifferent and generally depressed.

"Oh, hey dude. Listen, I was going to go get a friend of mine to help me find Wriith-"

Krie's face lit up with an evil grin. "Wriith is in trouble?"

"Yes. Anyway, he'll hopefully help us find Wriith and Vernice-"

Krie's grin faded into open-mouthed terror. "Vernice is in trouble?" Unlike Rampart's, Krie's attraction to Vernice was no secret.

"Yeah dude, they've both been missing ever since this happened." He gestured towards the clock tower, where someone just dropped the replacement bell.

"What happened to Vernice?" Krie stepped forward and made a fist.

"…Uh, and Wriith, right? And furthermore, I obviously don't know."

Krie looked stunned for a moment, but then regained what little composure he had. "Ok. Who's this friend of yours?"

-----

Neth Regana, the CEO of the Vana'diel airline, sat back in his seat.

"Wow, Rampart, my friend… that's no small undertaking. It would cost…" He tried and failed to count on his fingers. "Well, it would cost a lot."

Krie, who was sitting alongside Rampart on the other side of Neth's desk, made his voice heard.

"How much would it cost?"

Neth was caught off guard by this question. He glanced at one of the delicate paintings on his office wall. Neth liked his office. He spent most of his days in there, and it was obvious he wanted it to stimulate his senses as much as possible. In one corner, there was a small waterfall, which led into a lagoon through his floor (there was a bridge between the desk and the door) inhabited by various species of rare fish, and on the end of this lagoon there was a hot springs, with an underwater wall so the fish didn't go and burn themselves. That was not the first thing most people noticed when they entered his office though, but this description has gone on too long already.

Neth leaned forward over his desk and seemed to evaluate Krie for a moment. "More than you." Krie made his voice dormant.

"Seriously. We're talking men flying airships dangerously low, which they would demand extra pay for, of course, and then the equipment to locate your friends, as well as people to operate it, not to mention people to defend the ship from the flying monsters that populate the airspace off the normal routes…"

Rampart looked into Neth's eyes. "You owe me."

"You're right. I'll make the arrangements."

-----

This wasn't quite what Rampart or Krie had expected. They thought they would be gently soaring through the sky, looking at a lot of people or something like that. Neth and the rest of his company were a bit smarter than that: They knew that would never work. Instead, they were on the lead ship of a fleet of ships. The ships were apparently experimental. All the machinery was under the deck, as were the places a person would reasonably be, since it was dangerously windy on the roof, due to the speed. They were on the roof.

That was the only place the machinery would work, which was designed to match and identify people based on a description of their physical appearance, apparent class (based on equipment), and linkshells in their possession. They were based on something called magical satellite technology, and looked like bowls with poles protruding out of them pointing at the ground. They, like the ships, were experimental. The ship's pilot and fleet's commander, a goblin calling himself Tim Smackdown, was explaining this to our current heroes over the sound of the wind and the engine, which were both quite loud.

"I'm not sure how they work, really, something to do with that newfangled sonar technology working together with our common magic, but I'm sure these guys understand it." He gestured towards the operators of the satellites, who thankfully all looked like they knew what they were doing. "But anyway they won't detect anything underground, underwater, or anywhere above us, but you shouldn't concern yourselves with that, they won't be underwater or above us, and if they have any survival skills at all they won't be underground, because we all know it's dangerous down there…"

A mountain zipped by, towering above them. It was unnerving how close by it felt.

"We'll be flying in a formation that allows us to get a perfect sweep of the areas we search. The satellites will see the area under and around every individual ship, and a good ways off the sides of the fleet. You shouldn't need to worry too much about all this though… let's get inside."

As soon as the airlock closed and the elevator to the bridge began its descent, Tim Smackdown put a cigar in his mouth, through an opening in his mask. "So we'll need a description of the people you are looking for, anyway." The elevator reached the bottom and the group walked on to the bridge.

Rampart spoke. "Well, Wriith looks exactly like that guy…"

Krie looked at the blonde, spiky haired, tall Elvaan in question. "Except a little more ugly."

Rampart pointed at a short Mithra with silver, short cut, jagged hair, and said she looked like Vernice. Krie added that Vernice wasn't as fat.

Rampart looked around. No one in this room looked like Poiso. "Be right back," He went in to the other room nearby, signaled someone, and came back with an average-sized Taru with brown, semi-spiky hair. This fellow looked like Poiso. He told Tim Smackdown their respective classes, and that they all had a linkshell called Hassloe's Brace.

Tim Smackdown nodded and said into his fleet linkshell: "Target A, type F, Target B, Type T, Target C, Type A." Rampart said something about how it would be nicest to find Poiso because he could find the other two easily. Tim Smackdown was unconcerned. It was his turn to fly. He relieved his co-pilot.

-----

Krie and Rampart had gone to the front of the ship, a fancy restaurant, which was now empty, and stood at the window, watching the world rapidly approach and then disappear behind them. The speed of the airship was quite staggering. It didn't seem like it could possibly take long to explore every inch of Vana'diel, and perhaps explore beyond. Krie leaned back on the window, facing the restaurant.

"Dude, that doesn't… look safe." Said Rampart.

The airship flew over a jungle.

Krie looked at him. "What could hurt me?"

The airship flew over a valley.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Hey…" He realized something. "Poiso didn't hurt a soul, did he?"

The airship flew over an area with patches of snow, which quickly turned into some snowy mountains.

Krie paused for a moment. "I don't think so, no. I didn't read about anything like that."

The airship flew over another valley.

Rampart chuckled. "I guess he still has a shred of love for society."

The airship flew over a very flat plain of pale green grass.

"No, I meant I didn't read the article. I don't know much about the whole thing."

Rampart looked at Krie, slightly surprised, slightly disgusted.

The airship flew over a dessert.

Tim Smackdown's voice could be heard over the fleet linkshell, which the pair had been given. "We've found one! Get to the exit, fellas."

They did. They couldn't see it from the room where the exit was, but the ship circled a few times to lose speed, and then slowly, carefully, landed next to the "target." The floor lowered from the center of the airship, and stopped when the presence of the ground would let it lower no more. Standing a few meters away, looking rather impressed at the ship, was Vernice. She was alone, and didn't look very thirsty or hungry, but had a rather large cut on her forehead. She ran towards the platform looking pleased.

"Ram!" She hugged him, coming at him so hard he had to pick her up and swing her around to keep them from both falling over. "Thank you, thank—oh." She saw Krie over Rampart's shoulder. "You." Tim Smackdown signaled the lift operator above. The platform began to rise.

This chapter of Vernice's life was in the book I promise we haven't forgotten about, Things to Watch Out for. In fact, her whole life was. Every detail. She had a long list of stalkers, and the book was on this list, and it also contained this list. Thousands of pages, out of millions, were all about Vernice. Also in the book is her journey back to the restaurant with Rampart and Krie, the way they sat around a table in the middle of the room, and her explanation of what had happened: she was kidnapped while unconscious by an Antica slaving party, they fed her just enough to live on, and she made a point to keep yelling and screaming. The Antica, with their adept, sensitive hearing, could not take this, although they had heard screaming before, this was way too much. So, they left her to die in the desert, and it was lucky that Rampart had shown up to save her so soon because she was about to have to start hunting and killing, and that was gross and she didn't want to do it.

The book, of course, mentions that Krie then said, "I am SO glad they didn't hurt you! Do you need ANYTHING at all? If you ever do, let me know, I'm here for you…"

Rampart, who was, by the way, was a Hume, put his hand on Krie's, also a Hume, shoulder, and said to Vernice, who was still a Mithra, "Come on, don't smother the poor girl with your misplaced worship… So, need anything? I'm here for you." Sorry, it's just that wasn't explained before, and that seemed like the worst possible time.

Vernice looked at Rampart and smiled. "No, I'm actually fine, thanks."

The airship had already taken off, Tim Smackdown had told them that Wriith did not seem to be in this dessert, and so they were off again. Landscapes zipped along under them. It was no less frightening than it was earlier. They all ignored the window.

"So, Poiso's exiled." Said Rampart.

Vernice was as surprised and you would probably expect her to be. "What?"

"He dealt a lot of damage to San d'Oria." He looked at the table. "And was told he wasn't welcome in any of civilization when he was… done."

Vernice shook her head and made a disgusted kind of noise as she exhaled. "Man, I hate that guy this week."

They couldn't ignore the window anymore, because from it there was a loud WHUMP. There was a man-sized red bird splattered against it. Tim Smackdown's voice was heard over the linkshell. "All those able to fight to the roof IMMEDIATLEY."

They arrived the elevator they had used before. There were a few fellows with rifles there. Clearly Neth had spared no expense on this mission. The door opened. One of the riflemen said, "The red carpet has teeth."

Rampart, Krie, and Vernice were all confused by that, but they were more concerned about the scene outside. An almost unbelievably large flock of the man-sized red birds was attacking the fleet. They could be seen in huge bunches around every ship, gradually tearing and pecking through the hulls, clawing and biting the other adventurers hired to defend the ships, and also getting sworded in half by those same adventurers.

Our protagonists ran outside and started slicing, slashing, and cursing the small fry, while the riflemen fired into the air, occasionally hitting something. Birds were falling at all sides, and even more were charging from an unseen source. Krie pointed at an object in the sky the others could not see because their graphical settings were not set as high because they were on more primitive computers. Oh wait, I mean they were busy with the birds. Anyway, he screamed in terror:

"Boss fight!"

A much larger bird approached from behind the airship. It landed, facing the party, there was a blur effect, about twelve individual particle effects, the camera withdrew, and the game entered combat mode. Someone somewhere mended the fourth wall.

Krie, on the left, held his great katana in front of him and put his right foot forward, ready for action. Rampart, on the right, took out his sword and just held it, ready for action. Vernice just stood there, ready for action.

Krie shouted to the party, "Is this a random encounter?"

Rampart looked at him, speaking grimly. "No, I believe this to be a scripted event."

The person who was supposed to have mended the fourth wall was fired by his manager, and his replacement filled in the last few holes.

Vernice sighed and enhanced their wills, bodies, and minds. They liked that a lot. It was a narcotic feeling. One that everyone was used to, and even addicted to, and that's why white mages are in such high demand, and it's also the reason for some other things you might have noticed during your… travels. But enough of that.

Action fight ensues, summarized henceforth: Bird strikes Krie, Krie strikes bird, Rampart strikes bird, Vernice heals Krie, Bird, not noticing the pattern, strikes Krie again, riflemen wait for and never receive clear shot. Tim Smackdown had a better idea.

His voice was heard over the Public Announcement system the airship apparently had. "MAN, I'M SICK OF THIS ALREADY!" A single missile shot out of the side of the airship, tightly arced around, hit the bird, and exploded. The bird was thrown far off the airship, while on fire, slammed into the neighboring ship in the fleet, and fell to the ground, still maintaining its massive forward momentum. It was a violent landing.

Tim Smackdown's booming voice was heard over the PA once again. "SMACKDOWN!" The battle continued with the small birds, and it was quite thrilling to be there with the crazy speed and the impressive backdrop and all. But it was easy enough to defeat them.

-----

Back on the bridge, the lights were flashing, sparks and steam were coming out of places they probably shouldn't even have been involved with, and panels were lit up in red. Tim Smackdown approached the group.

"Well kids," he paused here to take a puff of his cigar. He sounded sorry for himself. "It's broken. All of it. The engines are on the verge of failing, the sonars are mostly broken, and they're telling me one of the ships might have crashed. You did a good job out there, but we're going to have to go back to the airport."

-----

Rampart and Neth were in Neth's office. More specifically, in his hot springs.

"No, I'm sorry Ram, but we can't do another search." A banana fell from a tree and landed in the springs. Neth offered it to Rampart, who politely declined. "All the technology was in its prototype stages, so it's been ludicrously expensive to rebuild it all." He peeled the banana and began to eat it.

Krie, who didn't get into the springs because he found the concept of more than one man in there to be extremely gay, shouted across the room, "How expensive?"

Neth coughed while swallowing a bite of his banana. "Enough money to bankrupt you ten times over." He shot a cold glance at Krie, who was again silent.

Rampart nodded and sighed. "I understand, man, thanks for all you've done." Neth nodded solemnly, and so did Rampart. He and Krie walked out the door and went down to the street. When they got there, Rampart shouted a bit, and punched a stone wall a few times.

-------------------------------

Neth and Tim Smackdown weren't real. Although we wish they were. Ecspecially Tim Smackdown.

Next chapter should be interesting. Work is underway.


	7. Chapter 7

Ok, back at it again.

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Poiso stepped outside of his cave in the Konschtat Highlands to investigate the rumbling noise.

Time had passed. Though just how much had passed is something that needed to be worked out.

The sun had passed over the sky 17,521,200 times. That made it 48 years. It was the year 1025, fourth month, ninth day. Windsday. But from the point of view of a person from another world, assuming another world could somehow come in contact with Vana'diel, using Earth as an example, these 48 years would have passed ludicrously fast.

An earth day is the length of 24 Vana'diel days. In the time it would take an Earth-man to get a night's sleep, a Vana'diel man would suspect he were in a coma. Or at least he would if this made any sense. Vana'diel people act as if 24 days were indeed one day, and that 24 years were indeed one year. Poiso, Wriith, Rampart, and the others had all aged 2 years.

So bugger all that, from this point onwards time will be referred to in Earth standards.

The rumbling noise was loud. Poiso was carving things into his cave wall when he heard it, and it concerned him. Squinting his eyes, which were not exposed to the sun as often as they used to be, he looked over the hills and under the strangely grid-like clouds. The ground was shaking a considerable amount, but this was no earthquake. A small hunting party of adventurers was looking very concerned at something over the distant mountains. Poiso looked to see what it was. His eyes widened.

There was a tall, brown, cylindrical tower coming out of the ground beneath Bastok. Poiso knew that tower, and he knew he should probably do something about it. He warped away.

-----

There was no one in Vernice's San d'Oria mog house. It had become a lonely, sadly nostalgic place after the incident two years ago. There was, however, a bed in there, and on that bed was a Bitshag Brace linkshell. Hassloe's brace was long ago replaced by Kufcup Brace, forgotten soon after the Sromtunct brace was created, and the Racist Brace was understandably short lived. Bitshag Brace, in addition to what was left of the Hassloe's crowd, was a collective of dozens of weak-minded individuals under the fearless leadership of Angelinx. This linkshell was currently bursting with activity.

"Woah guys," said the voice of some particular nobody. "Are you seeing this thing over Bastok?"

"What?" Angelinx was prepared to be heroic. "What's happening at Bastok?"

Another voice, this one panicked, said, with the sound of screams and crashes in the background, "Yeah, this massive tower just came out of the goddamn ground and there are these monsters I've never seen and they're killing everybody. Oh shit. We need some help down here, fast."

Everyone, including Vernice who had just walked into the house to get some more crystals, heard Poiso's voice, which was a surprise. "No, no one go anywhere near Bastok. If you are near it, get as far away as you can. You should all probably run to Windurst, that's where they'll get last."

Angelinx was still prepared to be heroic. "What? Who let you into this guild? And besides, why should we listen to you? You're such a dick, Poiso."

The first voice was starting to get excited. "Can I get a party for the Bastok tower quest?"

Poiso had given up but would never pass up an opportunity to yell at people. "You're all idiots and you're all going to die. I'll get the old group back together, see if you're part of it, you stupid doomed fags."

Vernice hoped she knew what that meant.

-----

Wriith was unhappy. He was living in an underground village he had chanced upon in the dessert. The people there, who were a bit like humanoid moles, didn't believe a word Wriith said about the rest of Vana'diel, and they were convinced he was some strange creature from the dessert outside, not being entirely wrong, of course. But they respected him as a member of the community. After all, he was good at hunting for food.

In fact the village's overseer was now asking Wriith to go find some delicious, delicious sand-rat meat. Wriith complied. He moved the rock defending the village from the outside world. Squinting his eyes, which were not exposed to the sun as often as they used to be, he looked over the dunes. A small pig sort of thing was looking very concerned at something on the distant horizon. Wriith looked to see what it was. His eyes widened.

There was a convoy treading slowly along. Wriith knew what a trading convoy was. He knew he had to get on.

He began sprinting towards it, waving his hands and shouting. When he got close, he stopped in his tracks in shock and horror. There was another, smaller wagon coming over the dune. In the wagon was a band of Tarutarus. It was Jed.

If Wriith had time to think very hard, he would have admitted it was sort of refreshing to see Tarutarus after so long. But right now all he wanted to do was save his chance of rescue, and get even. He hopped onto the lead train and began yelling at the driver.

"Keep away from that wagon over there! I'll go try and handle it."

The driver had not said so much as "Huh?" before Wriith was off the train, and charging towards the wagon. When he was a few meters away, one of the Tarus made a noise and pointed at him. He jumped on, powered by adrenaline and revenge, and quite quickly used his awesome monk kung fu skills (which I'm saying they actually have now because it's much cooler than punch after punch after punch) to throw all of the bandits except Jed off the wagon, which was now rolling with increasing speed down the hill, towards the convoy.

Wriith grinned at Jed, who was looking somewhat more experienced and was unnervingly confident, despite the fact that his wagon was hurtling down a 45-degree slope towards a convoy.

"Hey now, don't I know you from somewhere?" he said. "Ah, yes, I DO." On that last word he swung off his duster jacket, revealing an assortment of knives. He took a long one in his left hand, a short one in his right, and made a fighting stance, which looked undeniably awesome. They both decided this was going to be one hell of a fight.

Poiso teleported between them before any strikes were made. He took a short moment to observe his surroundings, nodded firmly as if everything were in order, and said, in an urgent tone, "We have got to go, _now._" He warped away with Wriith.

Jed was flabbergasted. He turned around. His wagon was about to smash into one of the convoy's trains at a fairly high speed.

-----

On top of the tower, a rather pleased little Tarutaru-like thing was snickering. He wasn't quite a Tarutaru, though the difference was hard to place, it may have been the ears, or maybe his height, or something subtle like that. But regardless, he was the fellow responsible for the carnage below, which was something he was used to being responsible for, and it had started to seem rather pleasant, if ho-hum. The plans were all laid out and were definitely a work of staggering genius, because, as he liked to think, he was a _very_ clever dude.

He beheld the miles of rolling hills ripe for conquering. He smiled. And in his voice, which was surprisingly deep, raspy, and very very evil, he… giggled. "Teehee!"


End file.
